


Hours, Days, Weeks

by elaine



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-14 15:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/838593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair is having difficulty coping with a traumatic event. Jim does his best to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hours, Days, Weeks

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to sentinel_thursday on LJ, challenge #387, Time Stamp:
> 
> _You may choose an event from canon, or you may choose an event from a story of your own. Your time 'options' are five hours, five months, or five years._
> 
> of course, i didn't read the instructions properly, hence the title...

Sandburg trailed behind a little as they entered the lobby of the PD, probably feeling the after effects of a more than usually exciting day –  _exciting… yeah, that was a good word for it_  – and Jim turned towards the elevators without troubling to glance back. He’d heard the ding a few seconds before that indicated the car was now on its way back up. Plenty of time for Blair to catch up before it returned.

Except that he didn’t, lingering rather twitchily by the stairwell door, shooting nervous little glances in Jim’s direction that should have been warning enough. Somehow Jim missed it at first, then his hearing zoomed in on the frantic syncopation of Blair’s heartbeat.

 _Shit_. He should have thought of that. God knew there was no shame in it, but the look on Blair’s now downcast face said the kid felt otherwise. Obviously, Blair was going to tough it out, and maybe that was the best option; but all Jim could hear, see, and smell was Blair’s terror and it was setting his own nerves on edge. Those few seconds before he’d heard Blair’s voice… he swallowed, his throat unaccountably tight.

The bell dinged again, four floors up. The elevator was coming down again and there wasn’t much time. Jim tapped his foot imatiently against the tiled floor and frowned. “We’ll never get the damn paperwork done in time to catch the game at this rate. I’m taking the stairs. You with me, Chief?”

***

The repair guy was leaving as Jim opened the door of their apartment building.  _About time_ , he thought,  _the service in this building’s a joke_. They’d had to haul their grocery shopping, two trips up and down three flights of stairs, yesterday. The elevator doors stood open and inviting, but Blair peeled off towards the stairs with a muttered excuse about needing the exercise.

Jim captured him before he got his foot on the second step with an arm around his shoulder. “C’mon, Chief. Gotta get back on the horse sometime.” And where better than this? A short, two storey trip. Piece of cake.

Blair’s shoulder was rigid under his arm, but he didn’t protest as they entered the car. Jim pressed the button and the elevator rattled into life – Blair flinched – and began to rise. They passed the second floor and Jim reminded himself to breathe. Blair was absolutely still, tucked up against his side. Then, just as they were both starting to relax, the car shuddered and creaked and came to a halt with a raunching groan. Between the floors.

 _Un-fucking-believable_. Their eyes met, Jim’s concerned, Blair’s wide, staring.

“Oh, man… I do not  _believe_  this.” Blair slid out from under his arm, backing into a corner of the car. His voice was edged with panic.

Jim reached for the emergency phone. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll call the repair company. That guy can’t have gone very far. This’ll all be fixed in ten minutes, tops.”

“Yeah.” Blair nodded, seizing on the reassurance with almost religious fervour. “Sure. Ten minutes. It’ll be fine.”

He kept repeating that mantra for the two hours and thirty-five minutes it  _actually_  took for the repair company to track down another repair man – the other guy had gone off shift – and for him to fix the elevator again.

When they finally stumbled out on the third floor, Jim kept his grip firmly on Blair’s arm. Whether it was to hold him upright, or to stop any potential assault on the repair guy, Jim wasn’t entirely sure, but it helped, at least, to get Blair moving in the direction of their apartment.

Jim unlocked the door, ignoring the tremor in his fingers and pushed Blair inside. Safe. Blair was breathing hard now, his eyes glassy with shock. Jim dragged him into his arms, holding him tightly while Blair just leaned against him, arms rigid at his sides. It was a long time before he finally moved, sliding his arms around Jim’s torso and taking a death grip on the back of his shirt. He began to shake.

“It’s okay, Blair.” Jim whispered into a mouthful of curls. “It’s over.” He felt almost sick with relief. All that crap he’d once spouted to Blair about staying present and not letting his emotions get in the way? It didn’t work where Blair was concerned. Never had. Never would. He needed this as much as Blair did.

“How about next time you just let me take the stairs?” Blair’s chuckle was forced, but Jim smiled, his arms tightening for a moment before reluctantly releasing him.

“Next time? I’ll come with you.” Jim managed a grin. “We’ll be the fittest guys in the entire PD.”

***

It didn’t seem possible that an elevator could move so slowly. Jim paced the lobby outside Major Crime and counted the seconds. What had Blair been thinking? He’d come a long way, sure, but he wasn’t ready for this yet. Or maybe it was Jim who wasn’t ready… he could hear Blair’s heartbeat, could barely focus on anything else, and it was a bit fast, but not as fast as his own was beating.

Jim could clearly remember the white knuckle ride up to MC only a week ago, when Blair had first decided it was time to get over his phobia before it got out of hand. That day, he’d only been able to get himself into the car with Jim standing beside him. The next day he’d ridden up as far as the fourth floor, leaving the car when the last remaining occupant had got out, and coming up the rest of the way by stair.

But today, the only other occupant of the car had gotten out on level five and Blair was still in the elevator. Jim had been tracking him since he’d entered the building.

Blair was in the elevator, alone, but it was Jim who was on the verge of panic. The ding of the bell almost deafened him, and he hurriedly dialled back his hearing, trying to pull himself together.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal a smiling Blair. Jim wasn’t deceived – he could smell the sweat, almost feel the nervous energy crackling around him – but he grinned in relief, and relaxed just a little more.

Blair almost swaggered out of the elevator and Jim clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed. “Welcome back, Chief.”


End file.
